


This Part of the Day Bewilders Me

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 22:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10954089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Of course when Bellamy wants to start dating again, he comes to Clarke for help. She's his best friend; she should be the one who comes to for help.There are just two problems: she's kind of got a thing for him, and after eight years off the dating scene thanks to marriage and fatherhood, he's somehow become AWFUL at the whole thing. So she has a lot of work to do.





	This Part of the Day Bewilders Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [museumofflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/museumofflight/gifts).



> It is Erin's birthday!! She wanted fic with Bellamy needing Clarke to take him on a practice date, Parks-and-Rec-style, and also she's very into Bob Morley's [frazzled single dad look](http://ponyregrets.tumblr.com/post/160206039084/crackshipforya-bob-morley-calgary-expo), so here we are. HAPPY BIRTHDAY ERIN

"Should I get Tumblr or Grindr or both?" Bellamy asks, by way of greeting when he comes into the gallery. "One's specifically for men looking for men, right?"

Clarke opens and closes her mouth a few times, and then settles on, "Grindr is a dating app for gay and bisexual guys, yeah. Tumblr is not what you're looking for."

He frowns at his phone. "So it's not the Grindr I should download to talk to women?"

"Definitely not."

He huffs and sits down in the chair next to her behind the counter, making a face. He's about as frazzled as always, hair an unruly riot of curls, two-day old stubble looking like either the beginning of a beard or the end of a weed-whacker accident, glasses crooked. Clarke knew Bellamy in college, as Octavia's hot older brother, and she remembers him back then as a cocky, somewhat vain guy, confidence and bravado and appearance masking his own insecurities. He still rocked the bedhead look, but it was artful, and he wouldn't have been caught dead in glasses.

Growing up changes people, and parenthood does too. Clarke's just glad Bellamy seems to be on a constant upward trajectory. He just gets better and better.

"Why are you looking at dating apps?"

"Octavia," he says, which makes sense. It had to be her or Claudia, and it seemed unlikely that his six-year-old daughter was telling him to get on Grindr. "I'm trying to convince her to get back out there, and she says she will if I will, so--" He runs his hand through his hair, mussing it even further. "I don't know. I could date, right?"

Bellamy had dated when they met. It had been a pretty major part of his life. He'd gone out and gotten laid and been a fairly regular guy, but then he'd gotten in a serious relationship, gotten married, and had a daughter, and that took first priority. So it's been almost ten years since he was on the dating scene, and Clarke has to imagine it looks pretty different from this side.

"You can do anything if you put your mind to it," she says, and he snorts.

"Thanks." He pushes up his glasses to rub his eyes, and Clarke realizes he's actually stressed about this. It makes her stomach lurch. "You think apps are a bad idea?" 

"I don't know. I guess it depends on what you're trying to do. Do you and Octavia have some kind of bet or pact or what?"

"No, nothing like that. But--she thinks it's hypocritical of me to tell her she should try dating again when I've been single for longer than she has _and_ my wife didn't die."

"Wow, she really pulled the dead husband card?"

"Apparently I'm that bad, yeah. I just--I hate seeing her closing herself off."

"Yeah, I can see why she'd be annoyed by you saying that."

"I'm not closing myself off," he grumbles. "I have a kid, it's hard to date with a kid. People don't want to date guys with kids."

"I'm pretty sure that's not universally true. And Claude's a good kid."

"That's not really what I'm worried about."

Clarke worries her lip. "Okay, so--do you want to date?"

"I don't not want to date."

"Bellamy."

"I mean it," he says. "It's not like I want to be single for the rest of my life. But, yeah. I'm not dying of loneliness either. I could take dating or leave it."

It does make a certain amount of sense, but there's something in his expression that makes Clarke feel like that's not it. So when he doesn't go on, she nudges his foot with hers. "And?"

He huffs. "And the longer I don't date, the worse I get at it."

"I'm not sure that's true."

"It feels like it. Do you know how long it's been since I've been on a date?"

She tries to do the math on his marriage. "Eight years, give or take?"

"Give or take. And a lot of that was--" He sighs. "Before Gina, a lot of those weren't _dates_. Honestly, I tripped and fell into a serious relationship, and I don't have a clue how to get another one."

He's adorably forlorn, and Clarke gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He is, as always, incredibly firm. "Okay, so--dating apps are probably a good place to start. You can get Grindr and Tinder. Grindr might be mostly for sex? I'm not sure. I don't really do the swipe apps much, and obviously not the ones that are just for guys."

"Yeah, what's the deal with swiping?" he asks. "I don't really know how it works."

"Okay, just--download Tinder and we'll figure it out. It can't be that hard."

He gives her half a smile, and, okay, it does suck, a little. She adores him, and he's not interested, and now he wants to start dating other people. But maybe it's a good thing. It's easy to think about Bellamy as a potential romantic prospect when he's single, so--his dating should help. He'll get a significant other, and then Clarke definitely won't have any remote chance with him, and she can move on.

"Do I need pictures?" he asks, sounding despairing, and she has to smile.

"Don't worry. I've got you."

*

"Did you sign Bell up for Tinder?"

Octavia is looking wary, which doesn't even make _sense_. It was, after all, Octavia's idea that her brother start dating. But maybe she wasn't expecting him to actually call her bluff.

"He was trying to sign up for Tumblr, thinking it was a dating app. I took pity on him." She pauses. "And Tumblr, probably."

Octavia cackles, like Clarke hoped she would. "Are you kidding? I would _love_ to see Bell trying to use Tumblr as a dating app."

"I think even he'd figure it out." She taps her finger on her mug. "What's wrong with Bellamy being on Tinder?"

"It was supposed to shut him up about me not dating. That doesn't work if he starts."

"It was his idea, I was just helping him not suck at it." Worrying her lip, she regards Octavia. They met Clarke's junior year of college, when Octavia was a sophomore, and they were friends until Clarke graduated. They'd been in sporadic Facebook contact after that, and through that Clarke knew where Octavia was and learned about milestones in her life--her brother's marriage, the birth of her niece, her own marriage, Bellamy's divorce. So when she got a job managing an upscale art gallery here two and a half years ago, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to call up Octavia.

They didn't really have a ton in common anymore, but she hit it off so hard with Bellamy it didn't really matter. The two of them hadn't been close when he was just Octavia's brother who lived off campus and was worried that college was somehow going to kill his sister, but somehow they just clicked this time. And she clicked with Claudia too, this bright, cheerful girl who loved drawing and animals and getting rides on her father's shoulders.

She'd been thinking about broaching the topic of making a move on Bellamy with Octavia after six months, but then Lincoln had died suddenly in a hit and run, and by the time they all emerged from the cloud of grief and trauma, it felt like the moment had passed. Bellamy didn't think of her like that, so there wasn't any point in trying.

"Do you want to date again?" Clarke asks her now. "You can probably just tell him if you don't. He'll get it."

"He wants to fix me." She gestures broadly, encompassing everything about herself. "Fix this."

"He wants you to feel better," she says. "That's not the same thing."

"It kind of is."

As an only child, Clarke doesn't really feel qualified to mediate these kinds of disputes, but she's the person best positioned relative to both Blakes for it, so it still feels like she should try. 

"I think he actually wants to do this," she finally says. "So--if you don't, just tell him. He's not going to be pissed."

"He wants to date?" Octavia asks, with all the dubiousness the statement warrants. "Bellamy? Really?"

"Yeah, I was confused too. I think he doesn't like feeling like he can't do things, so he wants to figure out Tinder."

"I guess he's been single for a while. And Gina has a new girlfriend."

Bellamy and his ex-wife had a divorce so amicable Clarke is still waiting to find out the dark secret behind it. Gina had always identified as bisexual, but after four years of marriage and one child, she'd realized she wasn't actually interested in men, and they'd split up. Bellamy wanted full custody and Gina wanted visitation rights, so it was pretty clean, and they're, somehow, still friends.

When Bellamy tells the story, he focuses on how they got married too soon, how he proposed because his sister was graduating from college soon and it freaked him out. They were better friends than a couple, and it sounds genuine when he says it. Clarke's never found a crack in his nonchalance.

When Gina tells the story, she says Bellamy was so hot he derailed her entire sexuality, and that definitely checks out.

"He didn't mention that," Clarke says.

"You know Bell. Even if he feels weird about it, he'd never going to say that. He's happy for her."

"He is happy for her. It's not like he's lying."

Octavia concedes the point with a huff and incline of her head, but she's clearly not pleased about it. 

"They got divorced. Gina's not an asshole for having a new girlfriend."

"No." She sighs. "If you tell my brother this, I will murder you in your sleep."

It's not encouraging, but someone clearly needs to talk to her, and Clarke is already here. "Okay."

"I thought he was going to tell me he wasn't ready to date and I wouldn't have to think about it. Now I have to deal with it, and if he finds someone I probably _will_ be a weird asshole. I liked that he wasn't moving on. It made me feel like I didn't have to either. But I can't tell him that, because then he won't, and I love him. I want him to be happy."

"So tell him you aren't ready to date and be happy for him," Clarke says. It's not exactly what she's telling herself about the whole situation, but it's close. "Besides, how successful do you really think your brother is going to be at _Tinder_?"

"Yeah, that's true. He got a dick pic on Grindr and told them their lighting was shit and his daughter could have seen it and blocked them, so--yeah, I'm not convinced it's going to work."

"Yeah, Tinder might not be his thing," says Clarke, smiling. 

Octavia smiles too. "I do want _something_ to be his thing. He's my brother, I love him. I want him to be happy." She exhales, nods like she is dismissing all her emotions and replacing them with more acceptable ones. Which she might be. That's how Octavia rolls. "Thanks for talking me down."

"I could probably put talking Blakes down on my resume, at this point."

"It's a real skill," Octavia agrees. "I'd say keep me posted, but I don't really want to know how well he does with Tinder, so--take care of him?"

It's the easiest and most difficult request in the world. But Clarke still just raises her mug. "Yeah," she says. "Of course."

*

On Sundays, Bellamy takes Claudia to the park near his house, and Clarke joins them most weeks because she is, honestly, kind of a masochist. There is something uniquely torturous about spending time with Bellamy and his daughter in public, knowing that anyone looking at them will just unconsciously connect the mental dots of a family: father, mother, child.

But it's also her favorite day of the week. She wouldn't give it up for anything.

"Hi Clarke!" says Claudia, opening the door while Bellamy is still putting on his shoes.

"Hey, Claude. How's it going?"

"Good! Mom's got a new girlfriend. She's really pretty."

Clarke's eyes flick to Bellamy, and he gives her half a smile. "She is really pretty. Raven Reyes? You know her, right?"

Clarke blinks, surprised. "Yeah, I do know her. I didn't know she was into women."

"Fluid sexuality is the future." He scoops Claudia up on to his shoulders, making her giggle. "You ready to go?"

"Ready!"

Claude is almost done with kindergarten and has a lot to say about it, which gets them through until the playground. Bellamy looks a little more human, like he usually does on Sundays, clean-shaven and better rested, and if he's having dating-related anxiety, it doesn't show on his face.

Still, once Claudia is settled in the sandbox and she and Bellamy have claimed a bench, she nudges his shoulder. "How's Tinder going?"

He groans and leans back, closing his eyes. "Jesus fucking Christ."

"You know we're on a children's playground right now, right?"

"Yeah. That should give you an idea of how well it's going. I'm swearing at a playground."

"What's the problem?"

"Everything. I don't know. Seriously, I forgot how to do this."

"Have you found anyone you like?"

"How do I tell?" When she looks unimpressed, he groans and drops his head back on the bench. "Seriously, I have no idea. The whole swipe-based attraction thing is a nightmare. How do I know if I like them enough to swipe? What does that even mean?"

"I think you might be overthinking this."

He rolls his head to glare at her. "Have you met me?"

It's probably kind of a dick move to smile, but--he's really cute. "Bellamy. Stop stressing. This isn't a big deal. Matching with someone on Tinder is the romantic equivalent of accepting a Facebook friend request."

"How do you know? You said you didn't use it."

"I googled some stuff. I thought you'd have questions."

His smile is slow and a little smug, and Clarke kind of hates him for looking like he does. How's she _not_ supposed to be in love with him? "You googled Tinder protocol for me?"

"You clearly didn't do it for yourself, so someone had to. Get your phone and we'll check your matches together, okay? It can't be that hard."

He gets his phone out of his pocket and shifts closer, stretching his left arm out on the bench behind her, and pulls up Tinder. Grindr, apparently, has already been deleted because he was afraid of Claudia seeing a dick pic by accident. Clarke privately suspects that keeping up with one dating app is stressful enough for him, and he's just as glad to be down to just one. 

"Too young," says Clarke, as soon as he pulls up his first match.

"Twenty-three?"

"Ten years younger than you. Probably not interested in Claudia. Also, seriously, _twenty-three_. I'm younger than you are and I'd feel creepy dating a twenty-three-year-old."

"Yeah, okay." He swipes her away. "How about this one?"

There's something kind of skeevy about leaning over Bellamy's phone, rating matches with him, but he does seem to feel better doing it with her. They find a few matches, send a few messages, and once they're done, he slumps over, dropping his head onto her shoulder.

"Sorry I'm a fucking mess," he says, and she smiles.

"Playground language."

"Seriously, I really appreciate it."

"We were rating attractive people on a phone, Bellamy. It's really not a hardship."

"No one else was doing it with me. And it's just going to get worse. Like you said, this is the easy part. Just imagine how bad it's going to be if I go on an actual date."

However bad Bellamy is thinking it would be, Clarke knows it would be so much worse than that, at least for her. It's some Cyrano shit, except that instead of helping Bellamy seduce a girl she's into, she's going to be helping him find a girlfriend herself.

But it's going to be good, in the end. She'll get over the stupid crush. It's a positive.

Before she can respond, Claudia rushes over and grabs her hand. "I wanna go on the swings! Come push!"

"Say please, kiddo," says Bellamy, mild.

Claudia arranges herself into sobriety. "Clarke, will you please push me on the swings?"

"Sounds a lot better than this," Bellamy says, and Clarke lets Claudia pull her up and off.

She catches him watching them, a fond smile on his face, and tries not to let her heart lurch.

"Is Dad okay?" Claudia asks, jolting Clarke's attention from her father. "He's been acting kind of funny."

She makes a mental note to tell Bellamy he's freaking his daughter out, but keeps her voice light when she responds to Claudia. "Isn't he always acting kind of funny?" 

"Yeah, but--weird funny."

"He's okay," Clarke settles on. "But I'll tell you if I think he's not."

"Okay," says Claudia, with the easy trust of a child. "Higher!" she adds, and Clarke obliges.

Definitely a good day, all things considered.

*

Bellamy's dating life becomes another thing they talk about, another source of weird stories from Bellamy, like Claudia and his students and everything else in his life. He texts Clarke screenshots of chats that go wrong and asks her if he's missing the meaning of certain slang terms and freaks out about matching with a student who graduated from the high school his first year teaching there. Clarke thinks that one might get him to abandon the entire thing, but he settles on changing his age settings so it won't happen again and keeps going.

She hadn't thought much about the actual _dates_ , but if anyone had asked, she would have said she thought they were probably happening. That's how Tinder works. That's his theoretical endgame.

It was, in retrospect, ridiculous, because if Bellamy had been going on dates he would have probably been texting her the whole time for advice, but, well. He's an adult. He's dated people before. At some point, she assumes he'll stop needing her as the human equivalent of training wheels, but she's not sure why she thought it would be before he started on the actual _dating_ part of dating.

But she did, so she's not prepared the next freak out.

It's Thursday about a month into summer vacation, and Clarke is thinking about texting Bellamy about getting dinner while also telling herself that she has other friends and she should probably hang out with one of them. It would be better, but she's not good at making herself believe that. Bellamy is always her first choice, as stupid as that is.

So it's a relief when she hears Claudia's bright, familiar, "Hi, Clarke!"

She and Bellamy are a common sight in the gallery in the summer; Claudia takes swimming lessons at the YMCA down the street, so they usually stop by after to say hi when they're done. Those are Monday-Wednesday-Friday, though, and earlier in the day, so Clarke's not sure what's happening here.

But she's not objecting.

"Hi!" She crouches down to catch Claudia as she launches herself in for a hug, but her eyes are on Bellamy. "What are you guys doing in town?"

"Gina and Raven are taking her to dinner and a movie."

"Wow, date night," Clarke teases. "Fancy."

"We're a little early so I figured we'd say hi," says Bellamy. He's looking a little shifty, so Clarke just raises her eyebrows and he folds. "I'm going to be bored, so I was hoping you'd want to hang out with me."

"There we go," she says. "I was actually about to text to see if you guys had anything cool going on."

"You can come to the movie if you want," says Claudia, magnanimous.

"I think we're gonna let you and Mom and Raven have some time to yourselves," Bellamy tells her. "But thanks."

"I'm sleeping over at Mom's," she adds, pride clear in her voice.

Clarke smiles. "That is going to be really fun. I'll make sure your dad doesn't get too jealous and lonely."

"I said he could come!"

"Clarke and I are going to watch R-rated movies without you instead," he teases. "Why don't you go in the back and find your crayons? We've got half an hour before you're meeting Mom."

Claudia scampers off, but Clarke watches Bellamy, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"What's really going on?"

He lets out an offended huff. "Who says something's going on?"

"You could have just stopped by after you dropped her off."

"It's almost like I like spending time with you," he says, but then he slumps. "I need you to go on a date with me."

Clarke's not sure how she keeps a straight face, but she does. "Is Tinder going that badly?"

"No, that's--I've got a date on Saturday and I'm so fucking nervous."

Clarke's stomach twists. "You like them?" 

"She's fine," he says. "Not, like--I don't think we're getting married or anything. But it's my first date and I'm worried I'm going to fuck it up."

"So you want to go on a date with me so it's not the first date?" 

"You can coach me through it."

Claudia comes back out with her crayons and some paper before Clarke can respond, which is kind of a blessing. Clarke sits down next to her to draw, and Bellamy does too, and they use the kid as a buffer between themselves and Bellamy's insecurities.

Clarke takes the time to consider her options. She could say no, of course. He'd understand that it would be weird for her. Judging from the slight flush on his neck, he already understands that it's weird for her.

On the other hand, it probably won't actually be that weird. And maybe Bellamy will calm down a little.

If she were smart, she'd text Wells, and he'd absolutely tell her not to do this. Instead, she tells Claudia to have a good time, and while Bellamy's dropping her off, she gets the gallery ready to close up. By the time he's back, she's sitting outside on the curb, reading a book on her phone.

He sits down next to her. "We don't have to do a practice date. It was just an idea."

"Are you really that nervous?"

"I wrote up note cards with topics of conversation I can use."

Even for Bellamy, it's a lot. "Seriously?"

He sighs and roots around in his bag, finding a stack of cards and handing them over for Clarke to inspect.

" _Roman history_ ," she reads. "Kind of obvious."

"It gets worse."

" _Lizards of the world_. _Latin phrases in English_. _Word Origins_." She pauses. "Were you just writing down Jeopardy categories at this point?"

"Shut up."

" _The prisoner's dilemma_?"

"It's a _dilemma_ , Clarke. That means there's a lot to talk about."

"Okay, just--" She sighs. "Fine. We can try a date. It's not that hard, Bellamy. You're going to be fine."

"You say that now," he mutters, dark, but when she stands and offers him her hand, he takes it and lets her pull him up.

"So, the date is Saturday night?" she prompts, as they start toward the rest of downtown.

"Yeah."

"What's Claude doing?"

"Hanging out at O's. I was kind of worried about her being away from home two nights a week, but she thinks it's cool she gets to have sleepovers."

"How's Octavia doing with the dating thing?" she asks, making sure her voice sounds casual. They haven't talked about it since the first time, but she assumes Bellamy's had a few conversations with his sister. He's panicking enough it can't be limited to just Clarke. She assumes Miller has just stopped talking to him as a defense mechanism.

"Good," he says, to her surprise.

"Good?"

He gives her a wry smile. "Sorry, was she supposed to be shitty?"

"No, just--we talked a little. It sounded like she wasn't really into the dating thing."

"Yeah, she's not. But she's got a new yoga instructor and she definitely has a crush on her, so--yeah, I'm not worried. She's going to be fine."

"She has a crush on her yoga instructor?"

"Like I said, fluid sexuality is the future. Or our bisexuality is contagious. Either way, I'm counting it as a win."

"Yeah, that's awesome."

"At least one of us knows how to date."

"You're going to be fine, Bellamy," she assures him. "It's just dating. Have a beer, relax, just be yourself. I know you find this hard to believe, but you're actually pretty great."

"Good pep talk," he says, dry.

"I mean it," she says, and she does.

But he really _is_ kind of a disaster. He tries to pull her chair out for her and trips and nearly falls over. He spills water on himself trying to take a drink. He asked her to act like they were meeting for the first time, but when she asks him questions, he somehow forgets basic facts about himself. She asks how old Claudia says, and he says, _forty-eight_ , reflexively.

"What the fuck, Bellamy," she says.

He's face down on the table. "I told you I was rusty."

"This isn't rusty. This is, like--how are you so nervous? What do you think is going to happen?"

With what sounds like an effort, he pushes himself back up to a sitting position. "Yeah, that's what I've been trying to figure out."

"And?"

"I'm not going to get a lot of chances for this. The whole dating this. If I fuck up, when's the next time I'm going to be able to go out to dinner?"

"Whenever you want," Clarke says, mostly gentle. "You have about a hundred willing and able babysitters any time you want them. And it's not like you have to find someone now. I can't stress enough how little pressure there is here."

"I know. Seriously, I know."

She worries her lip. "Okay, so--pretending I'm your date is obviously really ineffective, since you're a total mess."

"Thanks."

"What if on your date, you pretend she's me?"

"Pretend she's you?"

"You can talk to me, right? You're a normal person about ninety-percent of the time when we hang out."

"Yeah, but--I don't know her. That's the whole problem. I don't have to do getting to know you shit with you. You already know me."

"I don't know _everything_. And if you could act like you didn't know me, you can just--act like you do know her. Assume she's going to like you. Which she will, because you're amazing." It feels like a little too much, so she powers past it. "Come on, it's easy. Just tell me something I don't know about you."

He opens and closes his mouth, but a counterargument must not present itself, because he ducks his head, laughing. "Uh, my first job was dressing up as Clifford the Big Red Dog at the library on Saturdays," he says, and it's her turn to laugh.

"See? That's a great story. Tell me more."

It's hard to tell if it actually _works_. Bellamy certainly stops being so fucking weird, but even if they keep to the general format of first-date questions, she can't tell if he's just talking to her, or successfully pretending she's his date and talking to her like she's still herself. Which sounds like a nightmare of a mental exercise just thinking about, let alone doing it.

It's a nice night, though. Bellamy insists on picking up the check and walking her back to her car by the gallery, and when they stop, she can't help feeling, just a little, like he might lean in to kiss her.

But all he says is, "I feel like I haven't thanked you enough."

"I don't mind. It's kind of fun, seeing you completely failing at life."

"You see that all the time," he says. "I once walked into your gallery with my shirt on inside out and backwards and a sock in my hair."

She laughs. "Yeah, okay. But this is a lot even for you."

"Thanks as always."

"You're going to be fine, Bellamy. It's just one date. If it doesn't go well, you're going to have one that does. I promise."

His smile is soft. "Thanks, Clarke." 

There's another quick, sharp second of _maybe_ , but then he's out of her space, heading back to his own car.

Clarke slides into the driver's seat and just breathes for a second, and wonders if maybe this isn't the kind of crush that's just going to go away.

*

Bellamy does not live-tweet his date experience to her. He sends her his usual texts throughout Saturday, a couple pictures of an art project Claudia is working on, some complaints about a TV show she's watching that he considers incoherent, updates on altercations he's having with coworkers.

And then at six, he just texts, _Okay, going to this thing. Wish me luck_ , and she decides she should tell him how she feels tomorrow. Just so he knows what his options are, before he sets up any more dates.

Now, though, she texts back, _Luck!_ settles in with a bottle of wine and Netflix, and doesn't let herself look at her phone too much.

But he should have texted _something_ , right? His date probably went to the bathroom, at some point. He could be checking in. Just to let her know that he dropped his fork in his lap and asked his date what she thought about what happens to morality in wartime. These are the updates she's looking for.

The phone stays stubbornly silent, though, and by the time nine-thirty rolls around and she still hasn't heard anything, she's imagining him making out with some unknown woman in the back seat of his car. Because, apparently, in her paranoid fantasies Bellamy is a teenager who doesn't have a home with a bed where he can make out.

A few minutes later, though, Octavia texts, _Bell asked if Claude can sleep over, so I guess it went pretty well_.

_I guess_ , she agrees.

Apparently she's finishing her bottle of wine tonight. That's fine. She didn't have any other plans.

She makes herself text Bellamy, _Heard it went well!!_ because, again, masochism, and then goes to see if she has chocolate, as well as wine. It feels a little overdramatic, given that you don't have to be in love to get laid--Clarke's had plenty of dates, including one Bellamy set her up on with Gina, that involved sex and no second date--but given how much Bellamy was freaking out, she can't imagine he'd just go home with the girl. Not unless it went _really_ well.

The doorbell rings when she's trying to figure out if she has the ingredients to make a mug cake for her sugar fix, and she nearly hits her head on the cabinet.

Her first thought is, of course, that it's Bellamy, and her second is that that's ridiculous. Bellamy's the only person who really visits her without calling ahead, but he's busy tonight. It's probably a neighbor with an issue of some kind, and they saw her light on. It's definitely not a big deal. Nothing serious.

"Hey," says Bellamy, when she opens the door.

"Hey," she says. She's in her pajamas, and it's not like he's never seen her in her pajamas before, but she feels stupidly aware of how he's all dressed up, slacks and a button down and his hair in some semblance of order. He put in his contacts, even. He went all-out.

"Sorry, I should have, uh--I got your text when I was driving, I didn't want to--"

"Yeah. Your sister said she was keeping the kid for the night, so--I wasn't really expecting you."

"Yeah, uh--" He huffs out a laugh. "I can leave?"

It's enough to knock her out of her daze. "Fuck, of course not." She takes his arm to tug him inside. "How much food did you spill on yourself? Be honest."

"None," he says. "It went fine. I actually tricked her into thinking I was a real person."

"So what are you doing here?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "Being fucking awkward."

"Bellamy."

"I did the thing where I just pretended she was you, and it worked, but--fuck, Clarke. I don't want to go out on dates with people and pretend they're you. Not when I could maybe, uh--" He wets his lips. "Not if I could just go on dates with you to begin with?"

There is probably a better response to the whole situation than kissing him. Something involving words. But he looks so nervous and he smells so good and he's _definitely_ asking her out, so all she can do is tug him down and kiss him.

He laughs against her mouth, arms sliding around her, but it's only a second before he's settling in for the long haul, mouth warm and insistent against hers, hands pushing up under her camisole to settle on her back.

"I was going to ask you out tomorrow," she says, letting her own hands tangle in his hair, making it wild like she likes it. "I didn't want to ruin your date tonight."

"Yeah, you already did," he says, grinning and leaning in for another kiss. "I wish you'd ruined it sooner."

"Yeah," she agrees. "Me too."

*

On Monday, Bellamy and Claudia show up after swimming, as usual. Claudia runs over for a hug, and Clarke swings her up into her arms for a second. She smells like chlorine and shampoo, and Clarke already loved her, but it's so much more now. Everything feels like the best kind of too much, right now.

She and Bellamy agreed they wouldn't tell her quite yet. He had clearly been a little nervous about making the suggestion, tripped over his tongue to assure her that it didn't mean he wasn't sure about dating her, and all Clarke could do was laugh and kiss him and tell him she got it. It wasn't as if she was being introduced as a girlfriend; Claudia already knows and adores her. They should be careful about how they handle this.

"How was swimming?" she asks, letting Claudia go and smiling at her.

"I learned the breaststroke!" she says.

"Awesome. You want to go get your crayons?"

"Yeah!"

Bellamy is lingering by the door, smiling. He has two days worth of stubble, his glasses are crooked, and his t-shirt is somehow too large at the shoulders and too small at the waist.

She hasn't told him she loves him yet, but she gives herself maybe a week before it slips out.

"I thought about dressing up for you," he says, with half a smile. "But it seemed kind of pointless. I'm not going to fool you."

She leans up for a quick kiss, heart turning over at the ease of it. She can just kiss him. She gets that. "You don't need to fool me. This is what I want."

"Does that mean you also want to hear all the topics of conversation I got from Jeopardy last night?" he teases, and Clarke shoves him away gently.

"Jeopardy isn't even on on Sundays. You've got nothing."

"I looked some up for you."

"Really?"

He shrugs, but he's still smiling. "I thought you'd think it was cute. You seem to like when I'm kind of a mess."

"I do like that." She gives his hand a quick squeeze before Claudia gets back. "You can tell me later," she adds, and he smiles.

"Yeah," he agrees. "We've got plenty of time."


End file.
